


Angels Shall Watch Over Thee

by DementedPixie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean, Emotionally Hurt Sam, Episode: s12e03, Episode: s12e03 The Foundry, Post-Episode: s12e03 The Foundry, Protective Castiel, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie





	

Castiel had a problem. As amazing as he was, even he found it hard to be in two places at once. 

When he’d first started to walk down the stairs of the bunker he was eager to share his ‘partnering Crowley to hunt Lucifer’ experiences with the Winchesters, but he had only taken a couple of steps before he felt, literally felt, the atmosphere. He knew right away that something terrible had happened. 

He quickened his pace and walked straight to the library where he found Sam. He was sitting at one of the desks with his head resting on his arms, blocking out the world from sight. 

“Sam?” No response. Castiel took a step nearer and tried again. “Sam? What has happened here?” 

With some obvious effort Sam lifted his head and gazed, somewhat blearily, at Castiel. 

“Oh. Hi, Cass. Sorry.” 

“What for, Sam?” 

Sam stared at him for almost a full minute, his eyes filling with tears, before finally being able to get the words out. “Mom ... she left.” 

Castiel nodded. “I understand. That is regrettable.” 

Sam made a noise a bit like a hiccup, and nodded back at him before turning his face away. 

“Sam – where is Dean?” 

Sam replied without looking at him. “He went to his room, just after...” 

Castiel looked towards the doorway that led to the bedrooms. Then he looked back at Sam. Sam looked about as broken as Castiel had ever seen him. Castiel thought hard about what had happened. Sam was a grown man who had never really known his mother and who had just, after being captured, shot, sexually assaulted and tortured, been given a chance to get to know her again. And she had left him? 

It wasn’t really within Castiel’s abilities to completely understand how Sam must be feeling but he was sure of one thing. That he shouldn’t be on his own. Which meant that Dean must be suffering just as much or he would be here. 

Castiel looked at the doorway again. He needed to stay with Sam but he needed to find Dean. There was only one thing for it. 

“Sam,” he said, resting one hand on the young man’s shoulder. “With your permission? We need to move.” 

A flash of Grace transported them both to Dean’s room, Sam sitting on the bed and Castiel standing beside him. There was no immediate sign of Dean. Castiel surveyed the room carefully before his gaze fell on a pair of boots sticking out from the side of the dresser. Two steps forward and he found what he had been seeking. 

Dean was on the floor, scrunched up behind the dresser, shielding his eyes and face from the world in the same way Sam had done. 

Castiel crouched down in front of the elder brother. “Dean,” he said, softly. “Dean, give me your hands.” 

A few seconds passed before Dean seemed able to respond but, eventually, he did so, holding out his hands to the angel. Carefully, Castiel pulled him to his feet and led him across to the bed to join Sam. While Sam was distraught, Dean seemed almost catatonic, unable to look at anyone or speak. 

Again, Castiel found it hard to comprehend exactly how Dean was feeling, but he tried his best. Dean had been Mary’s little boy who ‘loved hugs’ but, with her demise and their Father’s obsession with finding her killer, Dean had stepped up to take care of Sam. In fact, he had been responsible for raising Sam from that terrible moment onwards. A tough thing for a little boy to do, especially one who missed his Mom every single day. And now he’d got her back. The one thing that Amara could see that he desperately wanted. Only to be cruelly abandoned less than a week later? How could Mary be so selfish? 

Gently, Castiel manoeuvred both men so that they were resting their backs against the headboard of the bed, before positioning himself between them, throwing his arms around their shoulders and pulling them in. Sam went willingly, long legs curled up on the bed, one hand clutching on to the front of Castiel’s crumpled trench-coat for support. It wasn’t quite so easy with Dean who shivered and shook in Castiel’s arms until, eventually, relaxing. For one glorious moment Castiel’s wings appeared, not from intimidation, awe or fear, but from a need to protect, as the outstretched feathers reached to embrace the two brothers. 

The angel held them through the night. Because if Mary Winchester didn’t want her boys, then Castiel certainly did.


End file.
